Window of Secrets (WIP)
Note: This story is a work in progress. I will post parts of the stories at random intervals. of the story is up currently By: Apple_Pie, Lumosify, GlueBottle4Ever There was a strange wailing sound coming from the next room. Most people would be surprised, but I was used to it. It was my pet chicken, Irenka. I hadn't wanted a chicken, but it was what I had been assigned. Every kid in Callean, when they were born, were tested for their soul-pet, a.k.a. companion-for-life-boo-hoo-pikachu-if-you-don't-like-it. I don't think my parents were expecting me to end up with a chicken as my soul-pet, and a 5-year-old me certainly wasn't happy with the fact that I was stuck with the chicken. You see, if the pet doesn't run away by the time you're five, the Callean government sees that as the tests being correct (a.k.a. your personality didn't change at all), and the pet is yours for the rest of your life. If your pet does run away,...the government calls those children as having 'unstable' characters, and I've been to the Museum of History enough times to know what happens to them. Very few people enjoy having your body being crushed into a cream cheese substitute. And that's not all they do. One time, way back in fourth grade, we were forced to read three gory chapters on the consequences of a person's soul-pet running away. Irenka save me (If you didn't know, it is common to use your pet's name in swears and the like), I think I almost vomited when I read about the time when the government stuck four starving rats inside this dude's body and left him locked in a tower to rot. Actually, I know for a fact that one of my classmates had run out of the room with no warning whatsoever, to come back with a slight green tinge in her cheeks and shaky breathing. And that story wasn't even the worst of them. But enough of that, I'm probably scaring you. Having a soul-pet is a good thing. When you reach the age of truth, 14, you and your soul pet will reveal your inner powers. I am 13 and I'm turning 14 tomorrow. I knew what would happen, every day at school: "When you reach 14, on your birthday, your pet will disintegrate and you will find your inner power!" EVERY DAY. It was annoying but I knew we had to be ready for it. To tell the truth, I was ready for Irenka to disintegrate. Not because of whatever inner powers I would get, but because she was an extremely annoying chicken that was using up half the money that my family owned. My mother, sister and I were just barely scraping by. Irenka was a nuisance and was tearing up our house, along with wasting money that we could really use. My mother constantly nagged me that my sister, Yasmine, had done a much better job with her pet shrew, before it had disintegrated. Well, maybe she should try disciplining a chicken. In fact, here she is now. "Can you please make that stupid chicken just shut up?!" Yasmine yelled at me. See what I mean? Yasmine would be complaining if she had had Irenka as her soul-pet, too. "Nope!" I say in a cheery voice. She glares at me and screamed down the stars, "MOM! IRENKA IS ANNOYING ME AND CASSIE WON'T MAKE IT SHUT UP!" I sigh and get up, pushing Yasmine out of the way. She screams and my mom comes running glaring at me. "Don't push your sister. And shut that chicken up, I can't work either." she snaps leading Yasmine away. Ugh. Yasmine is such a baby. When I didn't start heading to Irenka's room right away, my mother called back to me, "CASSIDY AMELIA ROSSELIN! MAKE THAT CHICKEN STOP RIGHT NOW!" Yeah, my mother and I didn't get along, either.I would be turning 14 soon and my mom and I were both looking forward to losing Irenka. I went up to her and gave her the usual chicken feed and then carried her downstairs so everyone could see her disintegrate tomorrow. I checked my watch, and seeing as it was 10:00 pm, I sat with the rest of my family as we waited for Irenka to disintegrate. However, at 1:00, when I turn 14, she didn't disintegrate. "I'm sure she'll disintegrate in the morning," my mother said, and Yasmine nodded uneasily. We all went to bed with troubled dreams. When I woke up in the morning, she was still there. Was this some kind of joke? Why was that wretched bird still there? I heard some sirens next to my house and, looking out the window, saw my mom talking to what looked like an officer. Instantly, my mind flashed back to one of the trips to our local Museum of History. "This is the official uniform of today's 'Soul-Catchers'," the tour guide had told our family. "The 'Soul-Catchers must always wear this black star over their white uniforms. The white of the uniform signifies their purity, or in other words, it represents that they are doing this for the good of our people. The black star signifies their job: to catch and extinguish the light of the 'yellow star', or the children who's soul-pet either runs away or does not disintegrate." I was shaking in my fluffy white pajamas. Soft footsteps approached the door to my room, and Yasmine entered my room. I didn't even have the energy to tell her off about it. "Hurry," Yasmine hissed, and she turned and opened my closet door. She grabbed a giant suitcase and began stuffing necessities into it. I could only think one thing: Is...Is goody-two-shoes, whiny, bratty, ''Yasmine, helping me escape from the 'Soul-Catchers'?'' I jumped off my bed and shakily started helping Yasmine pack my stuff. "Why are you helping me?" I ask as I step over the creaky floorboard towards my closet. Yasmine doesn't answer and with her help, I had packed everything I needed. "Go out the back door," Yasmine whispers. I tried to ask her, again, why she was helping me, but she simply gave me a grim look. I suddenly remembered that Yasmine's inner power was selflessness, contrasting from our mother's inner power, bluntness (A/N: or frankness). I wondered if Yasmine's inner power had pushed her to do this. "Thanks, Yas. I hope I see you again." I say, but I was sure she knew as well as I did that we may never see each other again. She hugs me tightly and I quickly breath in her peachy-lemon scent, trying to capture it in my head. It hurt to know that I would probably never smell that particular scent ever again, not on Yasmine. Yasmine let go as we heard the front door open and footsteps stomp towards us over Mom's angry yelling. "Good luck," she said, and with one last sad look, she nudged me out the door. I turned around and got one last glimpse of...was that hope ''in her expression? Yasmine closed the back door as gently as she could, and I heard her try to sneak back up to her room. Peeking through the tiny window next to the door, I watched in shock as the Soul-Catcher man turned the corner and spotted Yasmine, grabbing her and hauling her towards the front door. I could hear our mother's anguished screams as she screeched various curse words and told the Soul-Catcher exactly what she thought of him. I had lived with mom long enough to know that her inner power of bluntness was acting up. The rest of the Soul-Catchers went up front when Yasmine was taken so I took the chance to jump over the fence and into a tunnel me and my friend Jamie had found when we were kids. It led to a small room under an abandoned warehouse. It wasn't a long trek and I made it to the room in 15 minutes. I pushed on the tiny doorknob to open up the metal 'door' that blocked my entrance, and entered the room. I found a small folder filled with cut out headlines obviously from inportant documents. I picked it up and read a few,"Pets aren't disintegrating. Need of new conference room for government, Warehouse found." With shaking hands, I let the folder drop to the ground. I hadn't seen this place in three years, and ''this happens? *FLASHBACK* I kick the old soccer ball around in a bored fashion. Dad and Yasmine used play soccer, but when he died Yasmine distanced herself from the game and the old, worn soccer ball was left to rot in the garage. Everytime Jamie comes around, we bring it out and kick it half-heartedly. Jamie iss more athletic than I am, but she isn't a soccer type of girl. Her thing is more basketball. Jamie had quickly abandoned the soccer ball and now fools around the fence that surrounds my family's property. She tries to wriggle in the middle of some bushes near the back door, just over the fence, which is tricky because one of the bushes is thorny and another has branches jutting out just so that it might as well have thorns, too. I turn back to kicking the soccer ball just as Jamie calls, "CASSIE! LookatwhatIfound!" Jamie's voice rushes the words in one breath when she is excited, much like her mother, Cassandra Wells. I like Jamie's mother, partly because our nicknames are so similar, and partly because she was so much like a second mother to me. When I ignore her, Jamie yells, "CASSIDYAMELIAROSSELIN! YOUHADBETTERCOMEOVERHERE!" I trudge over to her reluctantly, dragging the soccer ball with me. "Look," Jamie whispers, pointing between the bushes, her rushing voice gone, now that she had my attention. "Look at that hole." I peer closely at the space between the bushes. Mom always tells Yasmine and I not to go near those bushes because they are prickly. I wonder if it was meant to keep the hole, that was most definitely there, hidden from us and everyone Yasmine and I tell. Which would be a lot of people, as both Yasmine and I are blabbermouths. We can't keep our mouths shut. The only thing I can keep to myself is things that someone tells me as a secret, because then, I have someone to talk to instead of waiting for the secret to burst out of me. If Mom had told us, she wouldn't talk about it. Mom only has to give Yasmine a guilt trip to keep her quiet, because Yasmine's inner power is selflessness, and she feels very guilty about letting someone, or something, get harmed without trying to help. I, of course, am not fourteen yet, as Yasmine just turned two months ago, so there is nothing Mom can do to stop me from telling the world about the hole between the bushes. I would probably bring a picture for Monday's show-and-tell and blab the entire thing to my class, which has the biggest gossipers imaginable. So I can see why Mom would keep this away from us. The hole is roughly five feet in diameter (not surprising, as the bushes take up roughly twice that much space), and it looks perfectly preserved, with no dirt laying around it and the edges not seeming worn down. It is obviously man-made, but where it leads is a mystery, as the tunnel takes a sharp right turn after about three feet and what lies ahead is unknown. I feel slightly hesitant to go inside the hole. Before Jamie can speak, I quickly anticipate her next words. "I don't think we should go," I hurriedly say. Jamie pouts. "Pleeeeease?" "No, Jamesie," I say, stubbornly. "Don't call me that," Jamie blows some flyaway blond hair from her face. "It makes me sound like a guy with a pet-name. And I triple, double Dog Dare ''you," she narrows her eyes determinedly at me. She did not go there. No she did ''not. "Fine," I growl, "But you first." She beams at me and hops right into the hole. Just like that. "It's actually pretty clean," she sounds surprised. "I'm going in. You coming or what?" "Coming," I say grudgingly. Now that she had gone in, I couldn't let her go on her own. It's against Mom's rules. Not that Jamie needs to know that. I hop in, too, and find that Jamie is right; the hole/tunnel is clean. "Let's go," I say bravely, and Jamie, a few feet in front of me, turns and grins at me. After two minutes or so, we start to see a light up ahead. "Ooh!" Jamie squeals. She bounds ahead. I quickly follow. We exit the hole into a room. The room is an average size, and is entirely made of metal. The only thing that is not made of metal is the tiny row of windows near the top of one of the walls. They are made of a sparkly, crystal-clear glass that I am sure I'd heard the name of before. "This could be our hideout!" Jamie exclaims, running around and checking out the tiny metal refrigerator in a corner, with a microwave on top of it. I turn back to the hole. Beside it is a giant slab of metal. After some struggle, I finally slide the metal slab over the hole. A perfect fit. Jamie watches silently as I do this. "Hmmm." she says, her signature 'I'm thinking' signal, "I wonder if there is some kind of device that can move the metal slab without so much effort." We search the room, but nothing is available. Suddenly struck with an idea, I get down on my hands and knees and search the floor for any kind of indication of a cover-hole. Jamie stares questioningly, before realizing what I'm doing and beginning to help me. Behind the refrigerator and microwave, we find a triangle-shaped slab that, when opened, reveals an assortment of tools. I see two tiny doorknobs, a set of hinges, what looked like a vertical cake slice holder, and a tiny handle. We grabbed them and decided what we would do. We opt out of the hinges, stating it was 'too obvious'. We leave the vertical cake slice holder back in the triangle container, for emergencies, and settle on this: A tiny doorknob on the underside, to use to push up the metal slab, and the tiny handle on the top, to lift from the room's side of the slab. We set to work. Thirty minutes later, we finish fixing the doorknob and handle to the slab, and we decide to leave and come back the next day. By the time we get back, we were so sweaty and grimy that, five minutes after we had come back and begun playing with the soccer ball, Mom made us take showers. *END OF FLASHBACK* I sat down on the cold metal floor, drawing my knees to my chest. Jamie and I had gone there almost every day for the rest of the year, until we suddenly lost interest in the room. There was not much to do there, and we couldn't sneak food to the warehouse to use the microwave or refrigerator. We discovered a few things, like how there was a tiny lever behind the microwave and refrigerator that, when used, would open a compartment directly behind the microwave and refrigerator that the two kitchen appliances would glide back into. The last day we went to the room, we opened the compartment and hid the microwave and refrigerator in it before leaving. Now, I stood and found the lever, pressing down on it. The compartment opened and the microwave and refrigerator revealed themselves, gliding into place. I checked the fridge hoping to find food even though I know well enough there wasn't any. I remember the small button inside the fridge. I had found it on the last day before we were leaving. Jamie wasn't there that day and we stopped going to the warehouse. I pressed it to see what happened. Suddenly fridge flipped over and there was a door on the other side. I cautiously open it to find a mattress that was pushed up against the back. I pulled it down and found some covers on the top compartment. At least I had a place to sleep. All I need now was something to eat. I try to lie down and rest while I can, but I just can't sleep. Instead, my mind randomly wanders on. Why would the screwdriver be invented before the screw, I think. What would even be the purpose of that screwdriver? My mind wanders as I drift to sleep. I woke up to a scream. I bolted up right and saw a little boy standing there. After we both got over our initial panic, he told me his name was Alex and that this was his secret hideout. The best thing about all this was the food he offered. I realized I had to get going in case someone came because of his scream. He gave me the rest of his food, wished me good luck, thanked me for discovering the bed, said sorry for screaming and finally I left the hideout. I walk silently through the bordering woods, not really knowing where I'm going. Where would I go? There's nowhere in the world, but Callea. Everything else is gone, so where am I going. The truth hits me. I have nowhere to go. I start on a hiking trail that I've been to many times. I get to the fork and realize that the rope on the left side was always there. I climb under, curious, since there was nothing else to do. It was a long trail into it leads into a meadow. There is a kite stuck in a tree and some litter left behind from some trouble makers. Why was this placed blocked off? Suddenly I stepped on something crinkly. I look down and found a map. Callea was labeled there but to my surprise there was another city called Woodwell. Where the heck is that? Suddenly I felt someone tap my shoulder. I turn around to find Alex from the hide out. "Uh, hi Alex. What are you doing here?" I question, quite confused. "That's mine," he said roughly, scrutinizing me. Disappointed, I handed him the map. "Guess you'll be needing it, then," I laughed nervously. His stare was beginning to creep me out. "Why are you away from home?" he asked suddenly. "I could ask you the same," I retorted. Alex took a deep breath. Taking a step back, as if getting ready to run away, he said, "I'm...a black star." I stood there, stunned. That was the name of the kids whose pet ran away or didn't disintegrate. Those who weren't worthy enough to live. That was my new label. Not yellow star. Black star.'''' Category:Stories Category:Unfinished